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Amber Sherman

Rage

Updated: Sep 14, 2022

One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in my short life is through the rage of another. As a child, I watched my mother and stepfather fight and take all the anger and frustration of life on each other and their children. This is what I was taught through observation that is how you handle things as a person. It never felt right to handle things that way though. My stepfather used to teach me and my siblings to fight each other for fun. Most of the time it ended in injuries I remember fighting in the water with my older brother and having my head held under water until I tapped out or hurt him to get away even though I didn't want to. Physical altercations involving small children should not be fun but for him, it was a pass time. The rage between my stepfather and mother grew to the point where myself and my siblings got caught in the crossfire. My older brother got most of the physical abuse he was the oldest which in my stepfather’s eyes meant something that I am not sure about.

In 2010 my family and I spent some time in Tennessee the time we spent there was just shy of a living hell. My stepfather’s dad passed away making him extra testy. One evening my older brother did something to upset my stepfather. He was so angry at my older brother that he had him running away from him in fear for his life. As my older brother ran outside in the pouring rain my mother stood idly by watching my stepfather pursue him. I was afraid he would kill my brother I had only seen my stepfather like this a few times, this time felt different, more real, and more unstable. I remember chasing my stepfather out the door when I looked out the door, I saw that my stepfather had caught my older brother. The fear in my older brothers’ eyes was like nothing I had seen before in my life. Standing there in the rain knowing what was about to happen my body moved on its own and as a small 10-year-old girl I jumped on the back of my stepfather making enough of a distraction for my older brother to get away. This was not taken well by the rage-filled guardian of mine he grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me off of him onto the ground my back hit a cinder block which took the air from my lungs. I paid no attention to this at this moment all I could feel was this heavy dread all over my body engulfing me in the understanding that what was about to happen was no longer in my control and that no one was going to protect me. I looked up to try and see him, but the rain was too heavy for me to see. The last thing I remember was him grabbing my shirt at my collarbone and lifting me up to his hand.

From that day on I understood that anything done from rage was done with the intention to harm another. I swore off defending myself and standing up for myself because I was under the assumption that doing something in protest to another was rage or worthy of the title monster. As I progressed through my life, I had no voice because of how deeply this moment impacted me. In the years that followed, I never spoke against what someone would do to me or say to me I never wanted to hurt someone the way I did.

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